Master and Apprentice
by Seldon
Summary: An odd, sort of dark-ish one shot concerning a certain fire demon when he was younger....


Disclaimer: I do not own Yuu Yuu Hakusho, I have never owned Yuu Yuu Hakusho, and although many things are possible I seriously, seriously doubt that I ever _will_ own Yuu Yuu Hakusho. Understood? Not. Mine.

Now that that's out of the way...

Warnings: Minor blood, some angst, and generally darkish weirdness.

* * *

The master's cold crimson eyes stared intent and unblinking at a plain steel knife almost as sharp that lay on a rock only a few feet away.

And then shifted their gaze away, with almost rapt fascination, to the intended target.

And then back. Knife. Target. Knife...

The knife edge was quite sharp; the master had made sure of that. He'd sharpened it himself. It was quite capable of doing some serious damage. And of hurting. A lot.

Good.

That was, after all, what a knife was for.

_So why the hesitation?_

He shook his head inwardly, disgusted at his own weakness. There was a price to pay for errors, even small ones. Had this been a true fight, instead of merely a training session, the penalty for error would have been far worse than this. He'd killed enough opponents in the past to know this to be truth. This pain would be inflicted without malice, merely as a lesson: _Don't make the same mistake twice._

A far more memorable reminder than any mere verbal reprimand. He'd earned such lessons countless times himself, from _his_ former masters. He'd had no love for those teachers, but they'd taught him to survive well enough. Better, perhaps, than they'd intended – more than one of them had died at his hand. The eyes smirked cynically, silently at the irony of this.

And now _he _was master.

He'd shed seas of blood in fights throughout his life. There was no reason to consider this any different.

Except –

– This wasn't a fight. It wasn't blood shed in self-defense, nor anger. It was just – a reminder. He understood the reason for it, but the thought was weirdly unsettling.

He snorted, impatient with his own weakness. _Idiotic nonsense. He_ was in control, now.

He remembered his own fear, long ago –

_No._

The crimson eyes hardening even beyond their habitual glare, he picked up the knife.

The... "apprentice" – he _was_ an apprentice, he supposed, after an odd sort of fashion – eyed the knife warily, stomach sinking in... not fear. Resignation, perhaps. He was too tired to be really afraid anymore. And – it was his own fault. Wasn't it? Foolish lapses of concentration were inexcusable.

Weren't they?

He'd brought retribution on himself, then. It was pointless to fear it; a little pain wouldn't kill him. He need only grit his teeth and bear it, and he'd done that often enough before.

It was all he could do not to shrink away as the blade glinted in the firelight. But he knew his master would never look on him with anything but scorn if he did so. Not that his master had much respect for him _now,_ but he would lose any chance of it that he had if he tried to retreat. So he clenched his fists, and stayed where he was. He _would _not fear this.

But –

The words _I'm sorry _tried, suddenly, to make their way to his lips. He clamped his teeth firmly shut on them. They would do no good. He wasn't even sure what they meant. They just... seemed to want to be said, somehow, but he knew they would not be met with approval. _Who the hell would you be apologizing to, anyway? No one would hear, or care._

He closed his eyes, briefly. _No. Any mistakes I make are my own fault, and I will not make them a second time. I... am still too weak, now. I _will _become stronger._

_This will only make me stronger, someday. I must remember that. Must believe that, and not fear pain..._

_I... must remember._

Hiei opened his eyes. The blade slashed downward, and for a second the young demon could only watch, almost hypnotized, as brilliant crimson welled forth from the fresh, deep gash on his arm. He had taken plenty of injuries before, and plenty of them from his former masters, but this one was different.

_This_ wound he had inflicted on himself.

He was his own master, now.

* * *

A/N: Uh... yeah. I was in kind of a bad mood when I wrote this, and got to pondering the origins of Hiei's rather self-abusive nature. It came out kind of... weird, I guess. Review, flame, whatever.


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